Duty CAll
by wuemsel
Summary: Scotty underestimates just how far Kelly has always been willing to go to complete assignments.


Warnings: Some swearing and violence and not a non-con, but Kelly is a very self-destructive moron in this fic and sleeps with s.o. he doesn't really want to sleep with, because of it, and his explanation only makes it worse, I'm afraid.

Don't think that spoilers the plot, tbh, because I'm sure everybody guessed from the summary, but if it did, I apologize.

Also, please don't read, if self-destructive idiocy bothers you.

And now enjoy. ;p

DUTY CALL by wuemsel

They had been staying at Massimo Addario's villa for two days now with Scotty growing increasingly bored as the small company of high society folks Addario had invited slept or sunbathed through their long, sunny days and started the five o'clock cocktails at noon.

Scotty was all for sunbathing and watching tanned ladies smile at him, mind, but he had only brought one book (because Kelly had miraculously "lost" the other two that Scotty had put on top of his suitcase to pack later) and Addario's library consisted solely of American sports magazines.

Moreover, seven out of the eight other people present at the villa were brainless fools he couldn't talk to for longer than ten minutes at a time, and the eighth was Kelly, who was too busy handing everyone's asses to them at tennis and getting loaded in the middle of the day, to keep his partner company.

Then again, that was the job, of course. They hadn't accepted Addario's invitation out of affection for the man - which no one in their right mind could possibly develop, anyway, Scotty thought - but to gather information from him without him noticing.

The only problem was that Addario could hold his scotch as well as Kelly. So far, whenever Scotty had cast Kelly questioning glances before heading for his own room in the evening, Kelly had just given a little apologetic shrug and shaken his head.

Of course there would have been another way to try and get Addario to open up. From the way their host showered Kelly with attention, Scotty guessed that Addario would gladly share every secret ever told to him if only Kelly asked him nicely enough.

The way he flung his arm across Kelly's shoulders after a match or bumped into him seemingly by accident when they were standing together talking spoke volumes and Scotty sometimes had to bow his head and bite back a smile at the glances Addario shot Kelly.

Kelly, of course, had probably noticed all this before Scotty even had. He had a fail safe radar for his desirability and could use it the way other people used money or threats. So he was doing what he always did when he spotted a weakness in their mark - used it to the full. The fact that he was openly - if unusually coyly - flirting with a man twenty years his senior didn't seem to bother him one bit.

It was all quite amusing to Scotty. He had seen Kelly's charm in action more often than he'd cared to, but never in this constellation. Scotty had never seen him pretend to get seduced before, and he had to admit it was quite a show.

He doubted it'd get them anywhere fast, though. Addario didn't seem to be the kind of man who betrayed his employees for a wink and an ass-wriggle (which Kelly had performed as well as he could, not having much of an ass to wriggle; it had looked hilarious enough). In fact, if Addario hadn't been so openly undressing Kelly with his eyes, Scotty never would have figured him for a homosexual. He was broad-shouldered, trim, taller than Kelly and well groomed with thick gray hair and what the magazines would have called a sculptured face. He was very attractive in an old Hollywood kind of way and wouldn't have had troubles pulling women, either, as Scotty had gathered from the reactions of the few female guests.

And while not exactly a scholar, Addario was quite eloquent and spoke English fluently with a slight Italian accent. All in all, his overall appearance was so masculine that his infatuation with Kelly was a good example of how prejudices never got you anywhere in the spy business, Scotty thought. Surely the company would have had better suited agents for this particular job. No matter how Audrey Hepburn-ish Kelly played it, he wouldn't be able to get any results. Of that Scotty was sure.

It was why he was entering Kelly's room across from his own early in the morning of their third day at the villa - without knocking as usual. They hadn't had much time to talk over the past days to develop a strategy, and it was high time they did. Not to mention Scotty hadn't had any opportunity to mercilessly laugh at his friend for this particular way of spying. Kelly had thrown him a grin and a somewhat helpless shrug across the room every now and then, but Scotty wasn't going to let him off the hook as easy as that.

To his surprise, the bed was empty - and made. The door to the adjacent bathroom was ajar and he could hear the sound of water running, then stop.

"Behold the miraculous moment, it has risen before dusk," Scotty called out, approaching the door. "If I ask you now whether you're decent, will that upset the pun fairy?"

"Have you brought coffee with those lines, Herman?" Kelly asked from behind the door.

"No."

"Then what are you doing here, pray tell?"

"Well, you see, I was on my way to the salon to watch the sunrise, as is my habit every day of my life, as you are well aware of."

"Certainly."

"When suddenly - all of a sudden - I was grabbed by such a fierce and utter desire to see, to observe with my own eyes the wonderfulness of my partner in the morning, to share with you these first innocent rays of sunshine and dew on the grass, that I could not stop myself from rushing in here at once. For I have missed you terribly."

"Yes," Kelly said. "Quite."

"So tell me, man, how come you are in there and not in here, meaning your bed? Or has your bed maybe missed you too?" Scotty asked with a grin.

"What if it had?" The question was followed by something that suspiciously sounded like a suppressed grunt.

Scotty frowned slightly, cocking his head as if he could spot Kelly through the thin line of light emerging from the bathroom that way. "For one thing, I'm not sure our host would approve," he said. "He seems rather interested in the feelings of your bed."

"Hah," Kelly snorfled. "I see your deduction skills have not withered under the sun, Holmes. Hand me my bathrobe?" he added and struck out his arm, pushing the door a little more open.

"Didn't take much deducing," Scotty said, looking around for the bathrobe and finding it crumpled on the floor in front of the bed. "It's like watching Ahab meeting the white wale at a ball."

"Yeah. Right. What am I in this picture?"

Scotty had picked up the bathrobe and walked the short distance to the door. "The ball, of..." he said, trailing off, when he saw Kelly's hand.

There was a clear ring of deep dark bruises circling Kelly's wrist as well as a mass of superficious scratches as if someone had dug their nails into his skin, restraining him.

"What happened to your arm, man?" Scotty asked, suddenly serious.

There was a pause, then Kelly waved his hand a bit, almost flapping it against Scotty's chest. "Are you gonna give me my robe or what?"

"Depends. Are you gonna tell me why your wrist looks like that?"

Scotty hadn't expected Kelly to just open the door and grab the bathrobe himself, so he flinched a bit at the sudden movement.

"Demands," Kelly said in grim humour, "always demands. Like living with Mae West." He was fumbling to get into the bathrobe, ignoring Scotty's concerned gaze on him.

When he'd closed the robe firmly over his black boxers and bruised torso, he stepped around Scotty to walk to the chest of drawers at the far end of the room and rummaged through his unpacked suitcase on top of it.

Scotty turned to watch him with a deep frown. "What happened?" he asked quietly.

Kelly gave a dramaic sigh, like a teenager dealing with his old-fashioned poop of a father. He looked at Scotty over his shoulder, unfolding a pair of black socks. "It got a bit rougher than I expected," he said, sounding annoyed.

Scotty felt his thoughts grow syrupy. It was as if Kelly was speaking in a foreign, yet vaguely similar language, where familiar words didn't mean what one thought they did. He was sure he knew exactly what Kelly had said. And also that he hadn't understood it correctly.

"What did?" he asked.

Kelly stopped in lifting his right foot to put on his sock. "What d'you mean, what did? The Gathering of the Information," he said in mock seriousness. "The spying. The job-doing. The... Kelly-ing." He tilted his head, listening to this newest creation, then gave Scotty a rueful smile as if apologising for the stupidity of it.

Scotty stared at him with his mouth hanging open. He knew he was misinterpreting Kelly's words. Of course he was. "Wh..."

"The matter, Duke?" Kelly asked. He'd put on his other sock now and straightened up, putting his hands in the pockets of his robe. From where Scotty stood he could see an angry red mark on Kelly's neck, before he shrugged his shoulders and the robe covered it again. "I thought you'd be pleased to hear we can leave after today. You looked about ready to, dare I say it, sniff at a drink last night, out of heartbreaking boredom."

Scotty licked his lower lip and drew in a breath. "You're tellin' me... that you got the information from Addario. Locations, names, everything."

"Well... the way you say it makes it sound so spectacular," Kelly said with a grin. "But - yeah. Yes. Gonna get the Spy of the Year award now for sure, don't you think?"

Scotty wasn't impressed. "And just how exactly did you obtain these information?"

Kelly raised his brows. "Didn't think you'd want details, Jack. For shame, man. For shame on you for never telling me you-"

"Kel," Scotty snapped, shutting him up effectively. "Did you sleep with Addario?"

Kelly's smile vanished. "Yes," he said, sounding unsure now. "Course I did." He unconsciously hunched up his shoulders slightly, crossing his hands still in the pockets of his bathrobe.

"To get information from him," Scotty more said than asked.

Kelly looked lost. And a little defensive. "It's... what I do."

Scotty snorted. "Don't gimme that."

"But-"

"Have you done this before?"

"You know I have. Millions of times. Thousands. Hundreds. Loads of times." Kelly gave a little insecure laugh, clearly confused at Scotty's anger.

"With men," Scotty clarified.

"Well, not exactly."

"You've never slept with a man before?"

"No," Kelly said after a pause, watching Scotty wearily, clearly unsure where this was heading. He'd dragged his hands out of his pockets and folded his arms in front of his chest now as if for protection.

"Are you attracted to Addario at all?"

"No, man, what-"

"And did you enjoy it?" Scotty cut him off.

"No," Kelly said, sounding as if that was the most ridiculous question he'd ever heard.

"I take it you didn't get off on him hurting you like that, either, did you?"

Taken aback, Kelly moved his head back a little as if to get more distance between himself and Scotty. "What is your problem?"

Scotty stared at him. He'd never felt so far away from his partner before. He couldn't believe that Kelly had no idea why this would be upsetting, yet he obviously really didn't.

"Why would you do that, Kel?" Scotty asked, struggling for a more understanding tone, but failing. "Why would you let that..." He cut himself off, shaking his head.

Anger clearly overpowered the hurt on Kelly's face now. "That was our assignment, in case you forgot, Jack," he said in a hard tone. "I got results."

Scotty glared at him.

Kelly glared back for a moment, then seemed to lose his fight. "Why're you so angry with me?" he asked helplessly, stuffing his hands in his pockets again.

"Are you seriously asking me that?"

"It's nothing I haven't done a thousand times before!"

"Not with men!"

"How does that make it different?" Kelly asked, sounding slightly desperate. "It was an assignment. I did what was expected of me. Like I do. Because I'm damn good at my job."

"Nobody expected you to-"

"Of course they did!" Kelly yelled, but instantly clamped his mouth shut and shot Scotty a sad glance, before looking away. "They figured I'd do it, or they wouldn't have given us the assignment. And now they'll know for sure."

"I didn't expect you to do it."

Kelly didn't seem impressed by the sudden gentle tone. "You usually do."

"That's different," Scotty said defensively and at Kelly's questioning look added, "Women don't violate you."

At that, Kelly pulled an incredulous grimace, raising his brows.

"Well," Scotty admitted, "'cept that girl in Madrid, obviously." He gave a half shrug. "Okay, and that other one in Berlin."

Suddenly, something changed in Kelly's expression, the confusion and hurt being replaced by something close to awe, as if he had just understood a fundamental thing. "You think I like it."

"Like what?" Scotty asked, confused.

"Those assignments. Girl assignments. You think I enjoy those."

"Don't you?"

Kelly gave a half-hearted snort, his lips quirking in a humourless smile. "No, Scotty." He shook his head. "They're assignments."

Scotty cast him a disbelieving look.

Kelly grinned slightly. "No, no, I like having a good time," it was obvious he meant sex, "and beautiful women and all that, but that's not what assignments are about. You do it to steal from them. Or get them to tell you things. If I want fun, I can get it," he shrugged, "anywhere. The job's the job."

"But that's... You like..." Failing to find the right word, Scotty finished, "...girls."

"Uh huh. I also like to choose which girls to spend time with and I prefer them not to be killed for trusting me after I've left them."

The impact of what he was being told hit Scotty like a slap in the face. His tone completely changed from anger to sheer bafflement. "Why do you do it, then?"

"I'm good at it," Kelly said matter-of-factly and when Scotty frowned at him, continued, "I don't know if you've noticed, Alexander, but we're spies. In the middle of a war. That's when most people do things they're not proud of. And how is what I've done there," he gestured for the closed door, "different from letting oneself get beaten senseless or captured and starved or sent to a Turkish prison... or taken prisoner by Greek guerilla fighters?" he added quickly, when he'd finally found something Scotty and not he himself had done for a change. "It's all sacrifices we make, because it's our job. I wasn't aware some were more noble than others."

"This is different," Scotty said.

"Why? Cause sex is precious and sacred?" Kelly snapped. "How come it's okay when I break someone's fingers for information, but if George Sanders up there wants to poke the holy grail, it's Paradise Lost?"

There it was again, that tone Kelly sometimes got when he lamented about the job, about all the things he hated about it, the things they'd done, the things they would do. Scotty had often thought Kelly took things awfully hard, blamed himself for consequences no one could have forseen, and the guilt and shame seemed to correspond with something deeply embedded in his personality.

Of course Scotty had always been aware that Kelly took too many risks. It wasn't just that he took the job very serious (which was Kelly's excuse for everything) but more that he didn't take something else serious enough.

And just like he had done a hundred times before when Kelly had basically admitted to considering himself a useful but replacable tool in the greater scheme, Scotty chose the cheap, mean reply. It was the only one Kelly would listen to, anyway.

"What if I did that?"

"Did what?" Kelly asked, suspicious. He'd been confronted with enough "what if I"-lines over the years with Scotty to sense defeat closing in on him.

"You know. George Sanders."

Kelly narrowed his eyes. "You have."

"Not really, no, considering what you've just told me. My assignment was a babe and I offered to spy on her." Scotty grinned. "I quite liked that mission. And I would never think of myself as a-"

"What?" Kelly snapped.

"You know."

Kelly bowed his gaze quickly, nervously scratching his head. "Well, there's lots of things you wouldn't do, Jack."

"And that makes me a bad spy, I guess."

"No." Kelly cast Scotty a soft glance. "Look," he said, "just forget I said anything, all right? I got what we came for, who gives a rat's ass how I got it? Let's just go have some coffee and some sun and tomorrow we'll be on our way to the Ponderosa."

"Are you gonna let him screw you again, then? To keep up the cover?"

Exasperated, Kelly spread his arms in front of him. "I swear I just heard my voice say let's forget about this whole thing. Did you hear it? It must've been my voice, it was beautiful, and there's only you in the room apart from me."

Scotty studied him for a moment and shook his head, resigned. "Put some shoes on. I'm not going out with you like that."

Kelly looked down at his socks, then turned for the suitcase again, rummaging around until he found a short-sleeved t-shirt. "Where're my pants..." he muttered and instantly pointed his finger at Scotty without looking at him. "Don't say it."

At last he found his white pants and stared at them as if lost in thoughts for a moment, before he turned to face Scotty. "Look, uhm... Scotty... I get that we don't see eye to eye here, but I hope... I mean..." Nervously, he rubbed his nose. "I really hope this won't... you know..." His eyes darted away from Scott and back again. "Change... anything. Between us," he added after a pause, dropping his gaze and hugging his clothes.

For the second time that morning Scotty couldn't believe his ears. "Are you really afraid of that?" he asked, irritated. "That this'll change how I feel about you?"

"How am I supposed to know, man?" Kelly snapped, once more sounding so hurt and utterly helpless it made Scotty wince at the twinge of guilt in his chest. "You basically just called me a five-letter-word and you look about ready to dump me in antiseptic. I didn't think it'd make any difference who I fuck, but if this makes you think of me as a ... well, whatever slang you wanna use, we have a problem. So..." Kelly bit his lip, not meeting Scotty's eyes.

"Hoby, Hoby, Hoby," Scotty said sadly, shaking his head.

Kelly flinched, when Scotty approached him, hitting the chest of drawers as he backed away.

"I might as well talk to the doorknob." Scotty stopped, not touching Kelly, but standing close enough that he could. He bent his head a little to look into Kelly's eyes, but Kelly kept his gaze steady on the floor.

"I don't care who you sleep with, if you actually want to sleep with them. And I also don't think any less of you just because you're a self-destructive idiot. If I did, you'd have noticed a long time ago."

At that, Kelly looked up, frowning slightly, but obviously relieved.

"I love you, man," Scotty said, "but I gotta tell you, I don't think anyone could think any less of you than you think of yourself. And I'll tell you something else," he continued after a moment's pause. "We'll never get the information out of Addario like this. No matter how many tennis balls you pick up with your backside turned to him. So I say we beat it out of him."

Kelly stared, baffled, his gaze wandering off, then returning to Scotty. "... huh?"

Scotty shrugged. "No other way to do it. I certainly don't see any, do you?"

At last, it hit Kelly what Scotty was suggesting. "We can't do that. He'd tell them the moment we're gone and they'll change location and the codes. It'll all have been for nothing."

"Maybe the company should have sent someone who'd've thought of a better way to coax it out of him, then," Scotty said. "I'm sure next time they will."

Kelly stared at him - and grinned. "You mean we're gonna blow the assignment... for my ass."

"I was gonna say self-respect, but I assume that's where yours is located at."

Kelly crossed his arms. "So I got screwed for nothing."

"If you consider a warm and understanding heart-to-heart nothing. Not to mention the experience."

"Right. Certainly. Things to tell the grandchildren."

Scotty snorfled, then his expression sobered. "It's your choice. If you want to go ahead with what you call a plan, I won't say anything."

Kelly smirked.

"Not much, anyway."

Kelly smiled at that and drew in a deep breath, leaning back against the chest of drawers. "Scotty..." he sighed, grimacing, "if that guy touches me again, I think I'll have to shoot everybody in this villa. And then burn it to the ground."

"Yeah," Scotty said sympathetically. "I figured."

Frowning, Kelly cast him a questioning glance.

"You're shaking like the proverbial leaf, my man. Ever since you stepped out of that bathroom."

"Oh." Kelly looked down at his hands as if seeing them for the first time. "Suppose I am."

"I'm pretty sure if I touched you now, you'd deck me."

"Yeah, probably."

"Yes. So in order to restore order to the universe, the galaxy and the orderness of things, we shall go to Mr Sanders' room now, not to fulfill promises made, but to drag his sorry carcass out and into the garden shed, where you, my friend, will be presented with hedge clippers and a shovel - and when you've proven yourself worthy, we might even add a gun - and I dare predict you'll feel better in no time."

"As long as I don't have to do anything sitting down."

"I will pretend you never said that. Now get dressed."

Scotty headed for the door to let Kelly get dressed in private, but stopped with his hand on the doorknob, looking back over his shoulder.

"Kelly?"

"Hm?"

"Serious now - how badly are you hurt? Really."

"I'll live."

Unsatisfied, Scotty didn't move. "Happily ever after, though?"

Kelly snorted tiredly. "Nah, longer than that. I'll be fine, really. Promise," he added at Scotty's worried look and smiled. "You can tuck me in later. Read me a story, all that jazz."

"And you'll let me buy you a muffin?" Scotty asked.

"Yeah."

"With blueberries?"

"With blue berries and happy berries."

Scotty paused as if considering it, then nodded curtly. "Okay." He pointed a warning finger at Kelly. "Don't forget about it."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Now can I get dressed, please? I haven't had any coffee, yet, and I've an appointment to cut off a man's toes with a gun in half an hour."

"Of course, sir, of course." Scotty bowed his head apologetically. "I shall be waiting for you in the lobby, sir."

"With coffee!" Kelly called after him. "And that muffin!"

Closing the door behind himself, Scotty let go of a shaky breath and briefly closed his eyes. He stood with his hand still on the doorknob for a few moments, listening, though he didn't know for what. When there were no sounds but the soft thud of Kelly's bathrobe hitting the floor, he withdrew his hand, crossing his arms in front of him. Much like Kelly had done earlier.

When it dawned on him that he was waiting for a meaningful line to hit him that he could mutter to himself to express his vow to keep Kelly from playing Spy Whore again, he rolled his eyes at himself and turned to leave. He certainly wasn't going to stand staring at a closed door and mutter meaningful bullshit to himself.

He'd just say it to Kelly's face later. And watch Kelly nod and fidget and make promises and withdraw and smile that bullshit smile and crack some bullshit joke and never mention it again and do it, anyway, and feel even worse about it than before because he'd be lying about it, too, then.

Or maybe, Scotty thought, he wouldn't bother. A blueberry muffin and some unconditional love would have to suffice.

THE END 


End file.
